


Two graves

by orphan_account



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 05:01:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4593810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>two graves; one in the past and one in the present</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two graves

Strands of his short, dark hair stick to his forehead.  
He's not sure if the wet on his cheeks is sweat or tears. It could be both. He doesn't know. He hasn't cried in a while.

Leorio Paladiknight got attached too easily, he worried for others, a bit too much.

Leorio was scared of losing his friends, like anyone else would be. Leorio couldn't sleep, he couldn't eat, he couldn't think of anything else. He tried distracting himself, many times. However, those distractions turned out to be more harm than help. 

He'd see the gentle features of his friend in the women he'd bring home. He'd hear his cold and distant voice somewhere within the voices on the street and he'd think of the plenty of unaswered calls, every time his eyes landed on his phone.

Leorio was a mess, lately. Not that he wasn't one usually, but lately he became the bad kind of a mess. Leorio was tired, physically among all, but more importantly he was tired, emotionally drained. 

Leorio was a man of habit. His days we're pretty much the same, unless Killua and Gon were involved.   
He didn't think much of his habits, except one. That habit was a painful one, but at the same time it was what he looked most forward to.

Every day he'd call that same number, his number. Every day he'd end up with no reply. Every day he'd look forward to the sound of his voice, only to end up with hearing absolutely nothing at all.

 

When he was a young boy, Leorio lost his dear friend to a disease.   
The disease was cureable, but under the shade of poverty, his young friend ended up burried within the dry dirt of their village.

When he was a young man, Leorio was losing his dear friend to a disease. The disease was not cureable, simply because it wasn't a disease. His young friend ended up with his hands clutching the wet dirt of his enemies graves. However, he feared that those hands, lifeless, would soon be clutching the dirt of their own grave.


End file.
